


come find me (cause god knows i'll never find you)

by spacemanlouis



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, a newscaster tells that the remaining hundredth of a percent of the population was released, and a list of the dead is released online, and crawls into bed with louis that night, and nobody is allowed out of the country, and says 'daddy's not on the list', and the zombie apocalypse starts in the u.s., and two years later, au that starts where harry is in los angeles, but his and harry's daughter looks at it, louis refuses to look at it, when louis starts to lose hope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-10
Updated: 2015-04-10
Packaged: 2018-03-21 04:36:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3677727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacemanlouis/pseuds/spacemanlouis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the end of every night, Louis looks at his nightstand, at his picture of him and Harry, and thinks, 'I'm so sorry, I miss you.'<br/>[It's the year 2021 and Harry gets caught in the zombie apocalypse, and Louis still has hope, even if it's not there all the time.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	come find me (cause god knows i'll never find you)

As he looked out of the magnificent picture windows, at the nearly torrential rain outside, Harry took out his mobile, and checked his messages one last time before boarding his plane. He thought about messaging Louis, he really did. He opened their conversation and everything. But, he felt like something had been warning him inside his own head, that if he messaged his apology to Louis, it would just make him more upset.

So, Harry put his mobile back in his pocket, grabbed his carry on, and headed towards the jetway. He really needed this trip. He needed to get all of this behind him; get it off his mind.

It all started when Harry told him about the flight in the first place. _’If you’re going to see Liam, then go ahead. I like Liam._ Nick, _on the other hand. You know what, don’t even bother. Just go. I’ll see you when you get back.’_

_Louis, I swear to God, it’s for_ business. _You can ask Liam about it every single fucking day, if that’s what it takes with you.’_  Harry left the room, teary eyed, to grab his luggage.

_'Okay, Mr. Business Man. Just fucking go, okay?’_

__

_‘Yeah, whatever. I’ll see you when I get back.’_

And those were the last words, spat harshly at each other, like heavy rain, smacking against pavement. He thought about how Louis was probably feeling as he grabbed his hoodie, which still had a sillage of Louis’ favourite cologne from the last time he wore it. Harry acknowledged the guilt that was built up, so tightly in his chest, but he had to let it go, so he could have a nice, carefree trip to Los Angeles.

It was almost poetic, their relationship. They were best friends, boyfriends, no, wait, _husbands_ , and parents. They loved each other with all they had, deep inside, and they both knew it. Sometimes, it just wasn’t always there, in the open.

Harry sighed, throwing his hoodie over his shoulders, and trying to fall asleep. More importantly, trying to ignore the wheezing, smelly, morbidly obese man who had been sitting by Harry for the past hour. But, try as he might, he couldn’t. He was restless, because he couldn’t bring himself to message his husband back. God, he already missed his Louis, and it had only been a couple of hours.

He checked his phone again, for any incoming alerts. There were two.

**‘BREAKING: Few airports remain open in the United States after resurrecting virus infects millions on the eastern seaboard.’**

**‘UPDATE: Virus is said to zombify all victims. This might be start the real life zombie apocalypse.’**

‘What the fuck is this?’ he thought. He didn’t see anybody else on the plane panicking, so he hesitantly pushed the article into the back of his mind, and continued to try to fall asleep to more comforting images. That is, until everyone else on the plane gasped, then screamed. That’s when he knew, that boy, he really should have messaged Louis back.

**  
**  


\-------

 

“Pip, how many times do I have to tell you to not turn those frames back over?” Louis snapped at his daughter, who was rummaging through some old photos.

“M’sorry, Papa. I just thought you’d like this one.” She mumbled as she passed an _ancient_  photo of Harry and Louis, from _way_ before they were even dating.

Millicent, or, as they lovingly nick-named her, Pip, was Harry and Louis’ adorable, outspoken, and cooperative daughter. She was seven years old, but, the last time she had seen her dad in person was when she was five. To her, what was left of him; vague memories and out-dated photographs, to which Louis preferred to keep face-down. He didn’t like to be reminded of the love he lost.

Louis sighed as he saw the old photograph, and put it face down on the cream-coloured carpet. “Just… Let’s just watch the telly, okay? Keep you out of trouble.” He muttered his last sentence.

He sat down on the sofa, letting her swing her legs over his lap, and wrapping his arms around her, forcing her head nowhere but Louis’ chest, right under his chin. He turned the volume up, trying to listen to the lady on the screen.

“In other, more uplifting news, The Cure has been distributed to the remaining survivors of the mass cataclysm in the United States. Everyone who was found alive after the two year disaster was sent to and quarantined at the Center for Disease Control facility in Atlanta, Georgia. The remaining, healthy survivors are being sent to their airport of choice from Atlanta International Airport.

The number of people reported leaving the airport is now at a steady sixty-thousand, which is only around one hundredth of a percent of the entire population.

A new list has emerged a couple of days ago of the people who were identified as dead by the troops scouring the United States. Anybody they found dead was taken to the identification facility local to the finding. They’ve compiled a list of the dead online, which can be viewed by anybody who searches for it.”

“It’d be easier to just to fucking give a list of people leaving the country, yeah?” Louis spat, trying not to be tempted to look at the list. Man, did he want to look at that list. “Just fucking I.D. the living.”

“Papa, can we _please_  look at the list?” Millicent asked, standing up and going over to grab Louis’ laptop anyway.

“No.” He snapped. He looked around the room, trying to think of something to distract her with. He didn’t want to know if Harry was dead or alive. The percent of people was so, so fucking small, and Louis knew that Harry had the general survival skills of a newborn kitten. He just really didn’t even want to think about it at all. “Do you want dinner, Love? Yeah, come on. Come help me make dinner.”

“Papa,” She complained. “I want to read the list. Maybe Daddy’s going to come home.” She said hopefully. Louis just thought she was acting childish.

“Millicent, stop that.” He nearly shouted. He didn’t like where this conversation was headed. “I’ve kept hope out for him for two years, Millicent. I’ve waited for this to end _for two years_. I’m _tired_ of disappointing myself, Love. I’m _tired_  of waiting around for something that’s not coming. I’m just  _tired_ , okay?” Millicent stayed silent. She didn’t know how to react. “Just, go upstairs, leave me be for now, okay?” He asked, wiping down his face. “And do _not_ touch any of those frames in the hall, got it?”

See, the thing about Louis, was that he never liked to move on, ever. He was stubborn. He never learned how to let go. Which, in turn, is why whenever somebody asked him if he had started dating again, he would say, ‘No, why would I ever do that? I still love him, you know’. And every time his daughter brought him up, Louis would go insane. All because, after all these years, Harry was still the only lacuna in Louis’ heart.

Millicent trudged up to her bedroom, feeling hurt that her own father had yelled at her like that. And sure, Louis had obviously felt bad that he’d done that, but he also felt bad whenever someone touched one of his open wounds. He was still trying to heal himself.

Louis sighed deeply, and thought about his options. He could a) check the list, and find out whether or not his involuntarily estranged husband was dead or (maybe) alive, or b) live the rest of his life in ignorance, and never know at all.

He took his laptop from the ottoman across the room, and opened his browser. He searched ‘list of the dead in the usa’. It was the second link down. When he opened it, he stared at the first line of names visible, names of people he obviously didn’t know. He didn’t have the courage to scroll down. He only sat there, probably for a good five minutes, before shutting the laptop, forgetting to close the tab. He figured that he actually didn’t want to know.

After thinking for a good, long while, he leaned into the back of the sofa, and rebounded himself to a standing position. He took himself to his daughters bedroom, and found her, lying on her side, reading one of the articles that Harry had written, back when he was the writer of the weekly column in the newspaper, writing about birds, or cooking, or something else he thought was interesting.

“Pip?” He said quietly, trying to weasel his way through the door. “Hey. What’s up?” She didn’t say anything. “Listen, I’m… I’m really sorry about snapping at you earlier. I didn’t think, and, and…” He breathed. “And I’m sorry that I’ve been so emotional whenever you talk about him, it’s just that… I miss him too, sweetheart.” He started rambling, and playing with her hair, reassuring that he was aware of his own mistake. “You know I love you, right?”

“Yeah, I know. I love you too.” She mumbled. “Can we look at the list, please?” Louis tried not to get angry again, he really did. He took a few deep, discreet breaths to calm himself down. He didn’t need to make this worse.

“We can look at it tomorrow, okay, Love?” Louis tucked her thin, light brown hair behind her ear. “Do you know what you want for dinner?” He pouted at her.

“No.” She said quietly. “Surprise me.” They ended up smiling at each other, eventually making each other laugh.

“Do you want to come down with me?” Louis offered. His daughter only nodded, quietly climbing up his back, and sitting on his shoulders. Louis almost struggled to bring her downstairs, trying to be extra careful not to hit her head on the ceiling.

“You know, you’re getting a little heavy to be doing that now.” Louis said as he set her down, gently on the cold, tiled floor. “You’re too tall for me.” He let his daughter go back into the living room, on her own, so she could quietly and discreetly check the list on his laptop. Luckily, she had been raised by the sneakiest, most cunning man, probably on the planet, so she knew exactly how to do this. She scrolled, and scrolled, until she went down to the ‘S’ category, searching for ‘Styles’. She smiled.

“Pip, how does a PB&J sound right now? I’m just really tired after today; I promise we can have a real dinner tomorrow night.” Louis negotiated. She turned around, and looked at him, making sure the list was hidden from his view. Thank god, he wasn’t even looking in her direction.

“That’s okay. I don’t mind.” She murmured quietly, making sure to carefully put his laptop back the way she found it. She stood up to get her sandwich, and sat across from Louis at the kitchen table. In front of him, was a plain ham sandwich. Millicent grew up to know that whenever her Papa would eat ham, was surely the biggest sign of the world ending, because Louis _hated_ ham.

She didn’t want to admit it, but Millicent was actually terrified of Louis then. Louis never really got mad, or upset. All in all, he was always sort of chilled out, and whenever he exploded like that, something was really hitting a nerve in him. She contemplated asking if he was okay for a good three seconds before deciding against it. She knew that anything she said could set him off.

So, after they were both finished, and showered, and having a proper cuddle on the sofa, Louis announced that it was time for them both to go to bed. She told him that there was something she needed to brush her teeth, and that he should just go upstairs without her. He didn’t bother arguing with her. He just kissed her goodnight on her forehead, and let her get up from his lap.

He went straight up to his bedroom, and basically passed out as soon as his head hit the pillow. He stayed in a deep, heavy sleep for nearly an hour, until Millicent wormed her way into Louis’ bed, and started nudging his shoulder.

“Hm?” Louis hummed. “Pip? What do you want? What time is it?”

Millicent tucked herself under his arm, and said, “Daddy’s not on the list.”

And those words kept Louis awake the whole night, wondering if his Harry was actually alive, or if they just haven’t found his body yet, which then led to him thinking if Harry would still even be the same person as he was two years ago, if he did end up making it out. If he came home, what would he look like? If he came home, what would he be like? If he even made it out alive, would he even want to come home?

Louis thought, and he thought, until he saw the sun coming up through his window. His thoughts got so upsetting, that he thought he had started to cry a few times. Sometime in the night, Millicent had left Louis’ grip, presumably to go and sleep in her own bed.

He reluctantly got up at eight-thirty, to go wake Millicent up. He opened her bedroom door slowly, trying to look through the minute crack. She wasn’t in her bed.

“Pip, Love? Are you down there?” He called down the stairs for her. There was no answer, just silence. “Shit.” He muttered, rushing down the stairs. There, he saw her, legs tucked into her chest, sitting on the window sill, waiting. Louis’ body went limp, as if he were giving up. “Pip, give yourself a break. Don’t keep your hopes up like this.” She ignored him. “How long have you been up, anyway?”

Millicent looked up at the digital clock on the bookshelf in the lounge. “I think two hours or so.” He just sighed.

“Well, do you want breakfast or something?” She didn’t answer him. “We need to go out later today, you know.” He added, sighing.

“I want to see if Daddy’s going to come home.” Millicent announced stiffly. At this moment, Louis couldn’t even find words to express how _done_  he was with this whole situation. He wished he could just go back to bed, and make this all go away, even if it meant that Harry still wouldn’t be there.

“And what if he doesn’t? Are you just going to sit there all day?” He asked, getting a pan from one of the cabinets in the kitchen. “You have to go to school tomorrow, and I have to go to work.” She didn’t answer again. He was _so_  close to telling her that he was never going to come home, and that she should just forget about the idea, but he knew it would upset her to no end, so he refrained.

“He’ll come, trust me. His name _wasn’t_  on the list.” She reminded him quietly.

“Maybe they haven’t found his body yet.” He muttered, only to the point where she could barely hear him. She pouted at him angrily.

“You’re making it sound like you don’t even want him to come back.” She muttered back, wrapping her arms around her legs, barely being able to reach all the way around. “If you don’t want him back, just tell me. I won’t talk about it anymore.”

Louis wiped his hands over his face, sighing. “Pip, of _course_  I want him back. I just… I don’t want you to be upset if he doesn’t come back. Don’t want you to get your hopes up.” Millicent breathed out.

A little while after, at around noon, Louis was sitting on the sofa. He was almost half asleep. Millicent was still sitting on the window sill, looking at passing squirrels, and people walking their dogs. She was getting ready to fall asleep as well, and to be honest, she was starting to think her Papa was right. She hated admitting that he was right.

She was almost ready to stand up, she already had one foot on the ground, when she saw a man, walking up the pavement. He had a tattered backpack, and short hair, that wasn’t necessarily shaved, but it was _short_. Then, she looked at his face more closely, as he approached their neighbour’s house. She cupped her hand over her mouth, and she screamed, with tears welling up in her eyes.

Louis barely even looked out the window before he scooped her up in his arms from the window sill, and ran outside. He knew that it was Harry, even if he was a mile away. It was _his_  Harry. He knew that dorky, lovable face anywhere. He looked so much older, so much more tired, and so much more lean, and muscular.

**  
**  


Once he caught sight of his family, screaming down the sidewalk for him, his knees buckled. He missed his family _so fucking much_ , and he had been waiting for this moment for over two years. As he fell to his knees, he supported himself on his hands.

But Louis kept running, almost fucking sprinting, with their little girl in his arms, waiting to be able to feel Harry again. God, he missed Harry so _fucking_  much.

When he reached Harry, he didn’t even know what to do with himself. He collapsed right in front of Harry, who, by then, had stood back up. Harry easily, maybe _too_  easily, lifted Louis up from the ground. Millicent hugged Harry, so tightly around his waist, and Louis wrapped his legs around Harry’s hips, sobbing into his shoulder.

Harry felt so warm, so limp, and just so _tired_. Louis moved his hands up and down Harry’s almost bare head. Louis broke down even more than he had when Harry started to speak. His voice was so cracked, and dry sounding, as he said, “I’m so sorry.”

“No, no,” Louis protested. “Don’t even think about being sorry, Harry. God damn, I can’t fucking believe it.”

“Louis…” Harry said, just for the sake of being able to be with him. “Pip,” He squeezed her into his body with his left hand, while still supporting Louis with his right. “Louis…”

“Harry,” Louis sniffed, looking his boy in the eyes. “Do you still… Love me?”

 **  
** Harry answered by kissing him.


End file.
